You can see by my blog that I have many interests, including sewing, drawing and writing about various crafty art related things.

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Sunday, 2 November 2014

you say intention, I say pretension; lets blow the whole thing up

Most of us, when going to an art exhibition, will have a preconceived notion of what we will be viewing. Maybe we are being dragged to something that holds no interest, or perhaps it's an exhibit of famous underwear or something that we have been waiting our entire lives to see. From the classical to the mundane, Art can encompass anything that is put together and displayed for us to see.

Either way there is, is find, a level of pretension involved in art viewing.

Yes, yes, I may have rankled someone. Don't get me wrong, I love to view art. As an 'artist' myself, I find it inspiring and sometimes reflective. Sometimes moving, but always annoying.
"Why?" you might ask?
"Because there is always - that one". I will reply and point to the person bailing someone up in the corner.

This is going somewhere. Here:
Last Saturday, I went with friends to an exhibition I was itching to see. It was 'Body beautiful' at the oh so prestigious Bendigo Art Gallery. This is not sarcasm by the way, it really is an amazing gallery, you can check it out here: Bendigo Art Gallery

After handing over our tickets, we walked into the dimly lit, hushed space and spread out to ogle the goodies. Not five minutes after we entered we saw an usher walk very quickly by. Then not long after, another.
As we made our way through the exhibits of Ancient Greek statues, tombstones and some of the oldest surviving representations of the human form still in existence, a loud nasal tone wafted towards us.

There, between the iron age statue of Pan and the Classical busts and carvings, was a lady who was desperately trying to compete with it all. In her enormous haired splendour, She was trying to run her hands over all the things. All the things that were dated from about 5000 BC to about 1AD.

"I just want to feel it beneath my fingers."
"No, you really mustn't" said the poor usher who was obviously abandoned by her usher friends.
"But the form and the composition...this is my heritage."
"Please don't touch the things."

My friends and I raised our collective eyebrows and continued our tour.
In the next room was the opium den the oversized round lounge that had well dressed people draped across it awkwardly watching a video explaining the 'vision' of the artists. The value of the design, the florid strokes that encapsulate the essence of time in the way that only true visionaries can.
Ok, I only heard a little bit, but I think I got the gist. I'm sure some of it was quite interesting...

Then into this room.

I like to let art speak for itself. I will enjoy it as long as I can before I read the plaque explaining it. After all, isn't this what art is? If a picture is worth a thousand words, then why do we need to spend ten thousand pulling it apart and examining it? This statue was larger than life size and really takes your breath away. Which is mostly all I need to know. I did overhear that it is not the original head. Bam, lalala, don't really want to know more. just want to enjoy it.

Walking back through the rooms, we encounter splendorous hair again.
"This is my heritage! I just want to breathe it in you know? Touch it, It's where I'm from" (Arms are flailing ala sound of Music on a hill top).
"Please don't touch the things."
"But don't you just want to enjoy the contours? I love the way the form has been primitively juxtaposed in this picture..."
"Just...sigh...don't touch the things."

And so, the exhibition came to a close. As enjoyable as it was to admire the pieces, it is invariably pretentious art 'lovers' that can ruin it for others.
Surely with that, I have secured myself a position of never ever working in an Art gallery again, but most likely, I am being pretentious in thinking that anyone who might employ will read my blog any time in the future.